


Altered Fate

by Depressed_Ferret



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Brain Damage, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Child Abuse, F/F, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Life in the Horde (She-Ra), Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Personality Swap, Pre-Canon, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner Redemption (She-Ra), Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner's A+ Parenting, no beta we die like kings!!!, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:00:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depressed_Ferret/pseuds/Depressed_Ferret
Summary: A single action.  That's all it took to drastically change the destiny of Etheria's protector, and perhaps even the fate of the universe itself.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	Altered Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: mentions of past child abuse and just normal child abuse.
> 
> I don't normally do trigger warnings, but a friend suggested I put it here. Sorry if this seems out of place or whatever, still learning stuff on this site.

_"Forget."_ a woman's cold, gravelly voice echoed through Her mind, invading, pervasive as the words attempted to _shape_ and _contort_ the very fabric of Her conscious. Inky black tendrils of darkness writhed and constricted, stabbing into the tapestry of Her thoughts, and feelings and _memories,_ wanting to _shred_ and _tear_ and _take._

_She would not allow it._

Anger, fear, panic and guilt twisted and swirled in Her gut as blue eyes stared, locked on the form before her in nothing short of _horror._ A girl- _smaller in both height and build_ -stood perfectly still as arching bolts of crimson flame danced across her body, muscles painfully taut and spasm beneath singed orange fur. Mismatched blue and gold eyes widened in pure fear as hot tears streamed down her freckled cheeks, jaw clenched so tight there was an audible creaking nearly drowned out in the electric hiss and shriek of tainted sorcery.

 _"If I ever catch you near my sanctum again I will skin you alive, you **pathetic** abomination." _the crimson Witch sneered through her mask, contorted in a simmering rage as long, taloned fingers twitched and moved in intricate patterns. She controlled the electric flames, watching in perverse catharsis as they danced over the child's form in agonizingly slow motions, treating the feline as little more than a puppet on strings for her to torment as she pleased.

_The girl was a five year-old toddler._

_"Forget!"_ the monster's decrepit voice rang through Her brain with an indignant rage, insulted that She would not let the Witch twist Her mind and memories unmolested.

_She will not._

Adrenaline and blinding rage burned in Her belly, brighter and hotter than any flame as she fought off the Witch, pulling and pushing as hard as Her smaller form could.

 _"Stop this at once!"_ bellowed the Witch, shrieking in rage as she fought off the seven year-old wrapped tightly around her waist, _"The little **pest**_ _must be punished!"_

The other girl blindly flailed, desperate to throw off her captor as her lungs _burned_ as water filled her airways, screaming and shrieking in panic as terror chilled her blood. Cold, skeletal fingers tightly gripped her hair, claws wet with warm, sticky blood that ran down the girl's scalp, soaking her unruly mane and staining the Witch's grey, ghastly digits. Fear exploded in the feline's mind as she realized she was drowning, the Witch was _drowning her,_ and she was going to **_die._**

_The child was seven years old._

**_"Forget!"_** The Monster howled, malevolent and _furious_ that she was being denied, that _she_ was being blocked from Her mind, that the Witch's vile magics could not violate Her mind and tear _Her_ memories asunder.

_She will **never** forget!_

Age four the girl was starved for three days, _she got a higher test score than Her._

Age six the girl was beaten so badly she was limping and had three broken ribs, _she was playing with Her._

Over and over scenes played out, scenes She's forgotten and scenes that were _altered_ all return in their honest, unabridged _horror._

Brutal beatings, bloody cuts, sickly bruises and skinny, malnourished limbs filled Her mind, rapidly flashing in and out of existence at an alarming rate. So many horrid memories forcibly locked away, torn from Her mind and now rushing back with so much clarity it _hurts._ She can feel the girl's fur against Her skin, can feel hot tears wetting the fabric of Her shirts, can taste the foul stench of ozone and blood mixed in the air so thick and pungent it was sickening.

She-

_S-She....._

_She **Promised.**_

=][=][=][=][=][=][=][=

Two weeks.

_Two weeks!_

_That's_ how long Catra's been sitting here, surrounded by sick and injured pricks and having to fight off infuriating medical staff trying to shoo her out. They stopped two nights back after she clawed the shit out of someone so bad they needed over a hundred stitches. She knows because it was three beds away, all the while she was getting very terrified and angry looks from the staff.

Fuck 'em.

Catra wanted to laugh, and make fun of how the idiot looked all bandaged up, but all she could do was cry her eyes out until she passed out.

She didn't care if they saw her.

She didn't care if people thought she was weak.

She didn't care if she _was_ weak.

All Catra cared about was the girl laying in the bed before her, hooked up to dozens of machines and looking so uncomfortable in the angle she slept.

_She always hated sleeping on her back._

Adora's already pale skin took on a sickly quality, the yellow bruise around her nose only making her look _worse_. On the bright side, her teeth were better. Fixed by magic.

_It was the only thing fixed....._

Instead she'd laid there, deathly still and not _once_ opening her eyes.

Shadow Weaver tried to use magic to fix Adora's brain, but the medical team forced her out once Adora started seizing.

_It was the most terrifying moment of Catra's life._

She'd been beat, shocked, strangled, was hurt all her life and nearly died several times; but not _once_ did she feel the kind of heart-stopping _terror_ as when her only friend started shaking, back arched with pink foam forced from teeth clenched so tight she _swore_ there was a cracking noise.

Something happened when Shadow Weaver messed with Adora's head- _of that Catra was beyond sure_ -and she was _terrified_ to find out what it was.

A small part of her feared the worst.

The pricking sting of claws in her palm snapped her out of those thoughts.

 _She's fine!_ her mind screamed. _She's Adora! She's always fine!_

But there was always that small niggling doubt that she could be wrong and Adora would-

A choked sob tore from her lips even as she fought to keep it down, heterochromic eyes burned and already her vision grew foggy and wet from building tears.

 _"F-Fuck..."_ Catra cried as softly as she could, still partially fearful of showing weakness so openly but mostly just terrified of hurting Adora.

_Somehow._

_"S-She's fi-ine!"_ Catra whimpered, _hating_ how her voice warbled and cracked, "She-She's f-fine, she's _pe-erfect_ and-"

_A twitch._

Blue eyes, cold as steel and _so fucking beautiful_ cracked open.

Catra was on he feet in a flash, "Adora!" she wailed, face split and tears streaming as she smiled wider than ever before in her life. "Doc! Doc get over here she's awake!" Blue-Gold eyes never once moved broke away as Catra leant forward, holding her friend's pale hand in a desperate grip.

_She's finally back!_

Perfect blue eyes lazily turned to her, hazy and unfocussed but _perfect_ all the same, _"C-Ca..."_ Adora rasped, hoarse and raw as she cleared her throat to try again, _"Ca-atra....?"_

Adora was raspy, hoarse, and sounded like she'd been gargling rusty nuts and gravel from the Junk Yard, but in that moment it was like listening to the _Grand Military Orchestra_ during the yearly victory parades. Like the mightiest of marching songs and battle hymms sung by a choir of angels whose vocal cords were woven from the prettiest of golden threads.

Catra didn't know anything about singing, but _damn_ was she sobbing, overjoyed that her friend- _best and only_ -was _alive_ and _awake._

 _"Catra....?"_ Adora rasped, eyes still dull and hazy yet firmly locked onto Catra's, staring into her with an intensity that was different than anything she's ever seen.

_She steadfastly ignored the pleasant heat that flashed across her face._

"I'm here," Catra answered, still happy her friend was okay as she moved closer to Adora's side, "I-I never left your side! Promise!"

A flash of _something_ danced across Adora's eyes for the briefest moment- _anger, grief, disappointment, Catra couldn't tell_ -before she once again focused on her, reaching out. Catra would be lying if she said she didn't jump a little when Adora's hand tightly latched onto hers with a vice-like grip.

She felt grounded, _reassured_ by Adora's tight grip.

 _"I-I promised..."_ she wheezes, voice hollow and remorseful.

=][=][=][=][=][=][=][=

Things were strange over the last two weeks, of that Lonnie was certain, but once Adora woke up things got.....

_Weird._

Gone was the perky, energetic and naïve girl who'd train from dusk-till-dawn and seemed as oblivious as a malfunctioning bot. She was a lot more aggressive, too.

An older cadet tried tripping Catra for a laugh, and instead found herself getting her face slammed against the corridor until her nose and front teeth were just a bloody pulp.

Shadow Weaver demanded to know what happened.

Adora said the cadet assaulted her, and she was simply defending herself.

Adora _lied._

_She never lied!_

The girl didn't just stop at defending Catra either-

_No!_

Some punks from another squad were beating on Kyle, but before her or Rogelio could beat the _shit_ out of them- _as was their right_ -Adora came _running_ down the hall and punched the leader so hard in his windpipe that the others had to rush him to medical!

Then she _helped_ Kyle!

_It was like she was a different person!_

Adora was quiet, reserved, and didn't really emote too much. She wasn't shy- _at least Lonnie didn't think so_ -the girl would speak her mind whenever she damn-well pleased, but she seemed... _Cold._ Like she was always observing, always _planning._

 _"Attention!"_ The Red-Witch barked loudly into their barracks, startling nearly everyone into a rigid salute.

All but Adora, who stood at parade rest and leaning on her non-sprained ankle, who still had a dull look in her eyes.

Shadow Weaver glided into the room, inspecting every cadet and searching for _any_ excuse to lash out.

 _"Cadet **Catra**..."_ she growled with a mix of frustration and pleasure, a sound that made even _Lonnie_ shiver in fear.

The Witch was looming over the poor Hybrid, who looked up in trepidation and fear, no doubt _terrified_ of whatever cruel torture Shadow Weaver would inflict.

Black shadows slithered forth, writhing in the air around the now shivering girl, looming close and promising nothing but _pain._

 _"Your uniform is violating the Grooming Standard,"_ she hissed, _"I believe I know-"_

"Commander Shadow Weaver," Adora's voice suddenly boomed, clear and calm, "Permission to speak, Ma'am."

The Witch stopped, seemingly stunned, before gritting out a quick, _"Permission granted."_ with all the honeyed venom she could muster.

"Ma'am," Adora snapped a quick salute, "As my designated adjutant, Cadet Catra is exempt from all Grooming Standard regulations whilst I am in recovery, Ma'am."

There was an audible creaking, no doubt from how tightly Shadow Weaver was gritting her teeth.

 _"Very well,"_ Shadow Weaver attempted to brush it off, standing straight with the shadows receeding.

 _"Cadet Lonnie."_ She could feel the blood drain from her face as suddenly the Witch was standing before her, inspecting the teen for anything. And Lonnie knew she was _fucked._

She wasn't like Catra, who Adora seemed more protective of than the rest of them. Catra was to Adora what Kyle was to her and Rogelio; and Lonnie was a damn _menace_ to Catra in the past.

_No "Golden Girl" to save her._

_"Your bedding appears out of order,"_ Lonnie could _hear_ the sneer beneath the Witch's mask, _"One week-"_

"Commander Shadow Weaver," Adora's voice again boomed throughout the small barracks, catching Lonnie completely off guard, "Permission to speak, Ma'am."

Now Lonnie really _could_ hear Shadow Weaver's teeth grinding from so close, even as she straightened her back and sweetly asked, _"Yes, Adora?"_

"Ma'am, Cadet Lonnie's bedding is out of order because I fell on it as I walked by," Adora _lied,_ "Her and Cadet Catra helped me to my bunk before this surprise inspection, Ma'am."

_Suicidal mother f-_

_"Did anyone else see this?"_ demanded the Witch, sharp and angry.

Rogelio stepped forth and nodded, as did Kyle.

The shadows around the room _shook_ with the Witch's rage as she turned out the room, _"Report to the shooting range!"_

=][=][=][=][=][=][=][=

What just happened?

_Catra couldn't understand it._

Sure, Adora's been a bit _"different"_ than when she hit her head, but outright _lying_ to Shadow Weaver? That's _insane!_ What's next, she starts lying to _Hordak!?_

_Even as they marched to the shooting range Catra's heart fluttered faster as she remembered how Adora stood up to **Shadow Weaver** to protect her._

The feeling of butterflies in her belly and cold, crippling guilt warred inside her, since standing up to Shadow Weaver is exactly what got Adora injured to begin with.

_The deafening crack of Adora's skull against the solid steel walls of the Black Garnet chamber still haunted her dreams every night._

Sharp claws dug into her palm, pulling Catra from the _nightmare_ of her memory, and instead decided to focus on the Squad leader herself. Adora stood tall as she strode down the winding corridors of the Fright Zone with a confidence that left the young Hybrid stunned and awestruck. Only a few weeks ago Adora walked these halls like any other of their Squad: eager and quick to action all whilst loudly laughing and joking to hide her anxiousness. The shooting range was for Senior Cadets and nearly half of them weren't even teens yet, _obviously_ they'd be nervous.

_But now?_

Now she waked with a cold confidence that read like she was a veteran, as though she owned these halls and everyone in them. The slight limp of her leg was compensated to go from a pathetic hobble like most would've had into a smooth swagger, like an old Officer injured in some heroic charge,

_Catra didn't even try to hide the blush quickly spreading beneath her fur, finding the new confidence-_

"The _fuck_ is wrong with you!?" Lonnie silently hissed, snapping Catra from her staring and letting her focus on her surroundings.

Adora simply shrugged, "She won't lay a finger on me," she reminded, calm and even, "So long as I keep taking responsibility, she can't touch you."

"She's _Shadow Weaver!"_ Lonnie whisper-yelled as loud as she could without drawing attention to them, "She doesn't _need_ to follow regs to kick our asses!"

Adora nods, "I know."

"Hah!" the other girl scoffs, dark features pulled into a condescending frown, "You _know_ do you?"

Again she nods, "I do."

Before Lonnie could argue further Rogelio grabbed her shoulder, shaking his scaly head _no._ The other girl backed down, _"Bullshit,"_ she muttered under her breath as she slowed down to be with the rest of her trio.

Catra took that as her opportunity to take Lonnie's place, putting herself beside Adora.

Steely eyes turned to her as a small smile pulled at Adora's lips, "Hey, Catra."

Catra smirked to hide her concern, mismatched eyes looking over her friend, "Hey, Adora, so... Are you okay?" Catra couldn't keep the concern from her voice. How could she? Adora picking fights wasn't that unusual, but straight up _lying_ to Shadow Weaver? How could Catra _not_ be concerned for her friend? She wouldn't go so far as to suggest Adora was _completely_ different, but.....

_What if that hit to the head did more damage than they thought?_

The doc said Adora might suffer some memory problems, but he meant _forgetting things,_ not _changing things._

_Right....?_

"Yeah, I'm fine," Adora smiled, "How about you? You doing okay?"

The Hybrid shrugged, uncertain.

Adora frowned, "What's wrong?"

Again Catra shrugged, not really knowing how to put her thoughts to words. Especially words she could say in front of the rest of the Squad.

The agreement of _"keep your shit to your side"_ is one of the only things the Squad respects, barring the obvious _"I'm the only one who can beat up Kyle get out of my face"_ arguments her or Adora get into with other Squads.

_Like when Adora broke that one dude's windpipe a few days back._

Idiots need to learn that Kyle was _theirs_ to bully.

"Catra." Adora's voice snaps her out of it, bringing her once more into the present as they finally made it into the shooting range. Along three of the four walls were lockers as tall as the ceiling, each of which held eight beam rifles from before Squads were shrunk to a five-man-band.

_Or in their case: three women, a lizard and a Kyle._

Rogelio, being the biggest and thus had the biggest reach, passed out the rifles to all of us. They were crude, boxy and ugly as _sin_ but they were nothing if not reliable. Catra swiftly set about adjusting her stock and getting a feel for the pistol grip when she felt a hand on her shoulder, "Catra."

The Hybrid turned around, concern pulling at her features when she heard the tone of Adora's voice. The blonde looked down, expression ashamed and guilty all at once, a face that tore at Catra's heart.

"Catra," Adora begins, "I... I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry."

"Hey- It's okay," Catra scoots closer, pulling Adora into a one-armed embrace, "I don't know what's up but-"

 _"No,"_ Adora cuts her off, "It's _not_ okay, Catra. I _promised,_ and... I haven't held up to it." the blonde sighs, heavy with guilt and grief. Finally she looks up, blue eyes wet with unshed tears, and Catra could feel her heart _shatter._ "I promised I'd look out for you."

Catra blinks, only now noticing how wet and foggy her own eyes were. She tried to speak, tried to say how much that meant, how much that just Adora _remembering_ their promise made Catra feel all warm inside-

Adora leant forward.

Catra's eyes widened in shock at the warm feeling of Adora's lips against her own.

It's over as soon as it begins, and Catra can't help but feel an emptiness at the loss.

Adora smiles.

Catra-

 _"You slattern **WRETCH!!!** "_

-Screams bloody murder as an endless torrent of voltage in forced into her system, burning everything so badly she passes out only to wake up again from the sheer agony. Crimson flames dance across her fur as she's suddenly thrown into a locker, loudly denting the steel as all the air is violently forced from her lungs.

Grey, taloned hands wrap around her neck as Shadow Weaver suddenly begins _strangling_ the life from her, all while Catra is forced to watch, paralyzed by horrific magics.

The Witch leans in, so close that Catra can see the sickly yellow eyes beneath her mask, damaged by dark magics so unknowable that looking into the black scars burns her mismatched eyes more than the lightning.

 _"You will **not** corrupt my greatest creation!"_ hate swirled in the endless void of Shadow Weaver's scars, just as thick and venemous as her words as she shook the young Hybrid, _"I won't **let you** corrupt her, you vile animal!"_

Black spots blinked in and out of existence in the periphery of Catra's vision, her heart pumping _oh so_ painfully in her chest as panic ran froze her veins.

_"For twelve years I put up with your miserable existence! Twelve years to lo-"_

**_Crack!_ **

Suddenly Catra's vision exploded in a mess of crimson as she was suddenly dropped to the floor, coughing and sobbing with blurry eyes.

Not blurry enough to miss the burning hole in Shadow Weaver's skull, one eye missing and her mask _shattered._

Nor blurry enough to miss the smoking barrel of a beam rifle trained on the Witch's form, steely eyes cold and narrowed in a calm fury.

_"A-Ado-"_

**_Crack!_ **

Another burning hole appeared through Shadow Weaver's weakening form.

**_Crack crack!!_ **

Two more holes.

On and on the foul Witch was riddled until she lay still and motionless on the rusty floor.

_Dead._

Mismatched eyes stared, wide eyed at the sight of her _tormentor_ on the ground.

Two strong arms pulled the sobbing Hybrid into a tight embrace, even as troops burst through the door to the shooting range, whispering the same words over and over in a mantra that meant so much.

"I promised," Adora sobbed.

_"I promised."_

**Author's Note:**

> Redeemed through DEATH!!! Like HELL I'd really try to REDEEM that horrid bitch, she reaped what she sowed. :D
> 
> In all seriousness: I've had this idea floating around in my head for a while, and since I'm having trouble with my other story I just decided to take a break and do this. I might continue this, I might not, I have no idea. If enough people yell at me to continue I might give it a shot, who knows?
> 
> What I DO know is that I'm grateful for everyone reading, and I'd be happy to read any and all comments!
> 
> Also: Fuck Shadow Weaver.
> 
> ALSO: I just noticed my little line-breaks look like a bunch of Inquisitorial Rosettes. That's cool. ^^


End file.
